Chapter 13
Thirteen
EVIE
T he harbor is all waving, glittery water, colorful marina lights, and lit-up buildings as the boat slows, gliding into the slip by the second dock.
Cal’s been chattering away about this tiny seaside town and all its glory since we left the island.
It’s not like he needs to sell me on this place.
Already, I am dreading the thought of returning to the city.
“Jump out and tie us off,” he says, eyes lit up like Bay Shore under tonight’s bright moon and shimmering stars. I huff a breath and step over the boat’s side, praying my footing sticks.
It does, and I turn back in time to catch the rope flying from his hands.
Happiness has his face beaming. The moon’s got some competition.
He and Iris are surely close if she can pry that particular face from this grump of a man.
I wouldn’t know. Being an only child, the closest person I have to a sibling is Allie.
But I imagine my face looks something like joy when she’s with me. I hope it does.
The dock is busy.
People mill about their boats. A few are leaving the marina, hauling the mooring ropes in, and some are returning home. It’s friendly and oddly comforting to feel the spirit of comradery echoing all around.
“Eve!” A tall figure jumps onto the dock from the parking lot by the Coast Guard building and closes in.
Emmett.
“Hi!”
“Here goes,” Cal grunts from somewhere in the boat cabin.
A giggle bubbles through my lips. Emmett folds me into a hug like I’m his long-lost friend, and I let out a surprised squeak.
“Emmett. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Miss Eve. You bring the grump or captain this old girl yourself?”
Cal appears, pulling his cap off and tossing it back into the cabin, giving Emmett a dirty look. “As if I would miss the one time a year I can talk shit about you.”
“Oh, nice. Thought you’d spare me the humiliation in front of Eve.”
“Not a chance, bud.”
My brows lower of their own accord. “Never mind him.” I turn to Emmett. “I wouldn’t believe a word out of that mouth anyway.”
Emmett laughs, hearty, as he slaps a hand to Callum’s back. “I think I like her more than you.”
“Ha ha. See how that pans out. It’s all fun and games until she hears about your senior year jock itch and the way Suzie Hamlin had to ice?—”
“The fuck, Cal!” Emmett slides the cap from his head and flings it at his best friend.
I wind my arm through Emmett’s, and we turn our backs on Callum, walking along the dock toward the steps to the parking lot. “Since it’s your birthday, tell me the worst things you can about Callum.”
Emmett’s grin stretches his face. “Oh, this is going to be the best birthday yet.”
A groan closes in behind us, and I feel Callum right behind me.
As Emmett recounts stories of their days spent together years ago, I take in the beauty of this small place.
Its quaint size is more than compensated for by the richness it holds.
The open, friendly people. Everyone we pass says hi or goodnight to Emmett.
Some stop and ask the harbormaster questions, which he dutifully answers, me still hanging from his arm.
Some raise an eyebrow, their gazes flicking toward the café half a block away, as if they’re confused by my sudden attachment to his arm.
This is the kind of place you find and never leave. The one spot on this wide, roving world that seekers would claim as their own, should they ever find it.
“Iris is dying to meet you, Eve.” Emmett nods to the café as we reach the parking lot.
“She is?” I mean, I’ve been meaning to thank her for the supplies she sent me when I first arrived. But I’ve never had the chance. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Don’t worry, she’s much nicer than her big brother.
And much prettier,” Emmett says, but his gaze drops to the ground before we cross the street to said café.
I swear something like a blush washes over his sun-doused features.
I remove my arm from his, and he shoots me a soft smile.
I know that look. That’s the one the hero has when he is secretly in love with the heroine and something is standing in his way.
Callum moves between us, and I notice a gift in one hand, luggage in the other.
An overnight bag?
Why didn’t he tell me we’re staying?
“Callum, what on earth?” I poke the bag, hitting him with two raised eyebrows.
“It’s nothing. I always carry a bag for evening trips, just in case. No point in getting hung up in a storm because you forgot your toothbrush.”
His words die out on the last few syllables.
Okay . . . sounds like a touchy subject.
“We sailors are always prepared, Miss Eve. You’ll get used to it.”
Will I? I’m only here for a little while...
The front of the café is white, trimmed with blue. Elegant font is sprawled above the door on a long wooden sign: McCreary’s Café .
The lights are on, but the tables inside are empty. The doorbell chimes as Emmett pushes through the door and holds it for us. Callum waves a hand in front of him, and I step up into the café over one broad, whitewashed wooden step.
The inside is so pretty. Whitewashed walls.
Silver tables and mismatched, colorful chairs.
A long eating counter runs along the side to the left, the ends holding display cases where I assume baked goods and lunchtime treats would be during open hours.
Fairy lights are strung across the ceiling in neat rows.
Ocean-themed items are dotted around the place.
Some sit on the three wide bay windows by the larger tables that are set into them.
And the smell is . . .
Coffee.
Savory.
Sweet.
Delicious tangles of dishes Iris must serve.
“You made it!” A stunning redhead appears through a door behind the counter, her arms wide open in front of her.
Her ruby lips are curved up into a smile that would put happiness itself to shame.
She tugs an apron over her head to reveal the prettiest green dress.
Her long silver earrings dangle and a tinkling fills the room.
Emmett stills beside me. I can’t resist a glance at his face.
Yep, that confirms my suspicions. He is definitely the hero in love with the forbidden heroine.
Callum grunts before dumping his bag to the floor. “Hey, sis.”
Iris ignores him and folds me into a hug as soon as she rounds the counter. “You must be Eve.”
Hugging her back, I huff out a laugh. She lets me go, and I give her my best smile. “Please, call me Evie. Oh, and thank you for the supplies. I know it was weeks ago, and I was meaning to thank you ages ago?—”
She holds up a hand. “No thanks necessary. If you’ve managed to keep my ogre of a brother company and lived to tell the tale, that’s all the thanks I need.”
I can literally hear Callum rolling his eyes.
Iris’s gaze snaps to my left and turns to a glare, and I know I was right.
“Hey, Irry,” Emmett breathes.
Poor guy’s only now taken his first breath since she waltzed through the door.
“Em, happy birthday.” Iris steps to where he stands and dots a peck on his cheek. I can feel the heat from his blush to my right, and I swear molars grind to my left.
Maybe it’s the romance author in me, but I think I have this little scenario figured out. Em is head over heels for his best friend’s little sister. Said best friend is somewhat aware of this. But is it a one-sided attraction? Lord, this shouldn’t excite me as much as it does.
Maybe it’s a good thing Callum is held up on the island...
Still, if tonight is anything to go on, he could be on Mars and Emmett would still not make his move on Iris. Poor guy. I mean, he has a very rational fear—the McCreary to my left is scary. At first.
And it’s in that moment I realize how far Callum and I have come from those first days when he would barely look at me, let alone talk to me. Now?—
“You must be starving! Dinner is almost ready,” Iris says to me before turning to Callum. “Give me a hand, will you?”
After the McCreary siblings disappear into the kitchen, Emmett beckons me to a shelf. The cheek lining his eyes and smile is ridiculous. “Come here! Look at this while he’s gone.”
“What?” I cross the diner to where he stands by a bookshelf.
“Bet you’ve seen that scowl around before.” He wriggles his eyebrows, pointing to a photograph of a teenage boy holding a fish on the line with an older man by him.
“Oh my god.” I turn and look up at him. “I have. That has to be Callum.”
“Yep, and that was his old man.” The words lose their amusement as he looks wistfully at the photo.
I pick it up and stare at the boy and the man. The resemblance is strong. He’s almost the spitting image of his father. They stand in front of a shack of some sort. “Where’s this?”
“Fishing hut. It’s on the southern end of the island.”
Emmett gives me a confused look, as if I should know.
“Oh, I haven’t ventured that far yet.”
“Doubt he’ll take you there. It was kind of their thing.”
“What happened?”
“Which part?”
My mouth gapes a little and I snap it shut, swallowing. “What do you mean?”
“His parents, or his fian?—”
“Dinner’s ready.” Callum’s voice is curt. His face is stone. All the warmth from the past few moments fizzles out.
“Yep, coming,” Emmett says and walks past Callum to round the counter and into the room behind.
I stare at Callum. His gaze lowers to my hand still holding the photograph. Turning back, I set it down on the shelf carefully.
“Callum.” I turn back. “I?—”
He’s in my space. I look up, and instantly his heady scent infiltrates my senses. My heart winds up speed, settling into a clanging rhythm against my ribs.
He shakes his head. “Dinner.”
I rest a hand on his chest and breathe, “Dinner.”
His hand closes over mine, and he turns, leading me through the door behind the counter.
The space is more than just a kitchen. It opens into a large living room.
The dining table sits by the back bay window, now littered with candles.
Celebratory decorations in navy and silver. Iris sits by Emmett.
Callum drops my hand and pulls out a chair.
I drop into it, opposite Iris, and heat flushes my cheeks as Emmett winks at me.
Good lord.
Callum drops into his place to my left.
“Right. Before we eat, wine?” Iris says, pulling a bottle of white from an ice-filled bucket.
“Fancy! And yes, please,” I say.
I slide my glass toward her, and she fills it up. Emmett uncaps two beers and hands one to Callum.
When he tips it back toward his friend, he says, “Happy birthday, buddy.”
“Thanks, Cal.”
Iris beams at them both before tracking her attention back to Emmett. “Happy birthday, Em. Get anything good this year?”
She sips her wine, beautiful green eyes looking up at him under long lashes. He chokes on his beer, and Callum takes a long swig of his.
I’m absolutely fascinated.
She’s flirting with him on purpose. And I’m not sure if it’s because she knows how he feels or because it pisses her brother off. My gut tells me it’s the latter.
The dynamic is thrilling.
I truly hope I’m still here when she finally realizes what’s right in front of her.
“Nope. Just the usual,” Emmett finally says.
“Well, dig in.” Iris plucks up a dish and serves everyone before selecting the next dish and loading it onto our plates.
Everything smells amazing. The chatter and eating continue until our plates are wiped clean and the wine is gone.
The men regale me with stories of each other’s most embarrassing moments.
We laugh.
Iris doubles over, leaning on Emmett’s shoulder when the Suzie Hamlin story finally slips out. And the adoration lining his eyes with her touch almost floors me.
I’m tucking that little moment away for a scene, most definitely.
As the conversation slows, bellies full and drowsy from the heat of the warmer night and alcohol, Emmett yawns, laying an arm behind Iris’s chair. Smooth.
She simply lays her head back on his arm and smiles up at him.
Callum grunts at the same time that Emmett’s phone pings.
“Shit, sorry, guys.” He plucks it from his pocket and taps the screen. “Damn. Lucky you brought the overnighter, Cal. Front rolling in fast.”
What?
“We can’t go back?” I ask.
“Sorry, Evie. Mother Nature doesn’t consider our plans,” Cal says, absentmindedly tracing a finger over the label on his beer bottle.
“Oh. Will the lighthouse be okay? I mean—” Of course it will be, it was built for this. Even the thought seems stupid. But I’m flustered. The heat of slow-blooming anxiety spreads.
Iris leans over the table. “I can give you some things. You’ll stay here tonight. I have a guest bedroom. Not the first time this’ll happen.”
Callum rises, plucking up the dirty plates. Iris shakes her head at him and goes back to chatting with Emmett.
“Let me help.” I push up from the chair and grab dishes, following Callum to the kitchen space. He stands at the sink, rinsing the plates and cutlery.
I set the dishes on the counter. “Should I cover these for the refrigerator?”
“Top of the cupboard, left of the fridge,” he grunts.
Okay... this weather’s flipped his mood like the storm clouds it brings, apparently.
I find the plastic wrap in the cupboard and cover each dish in turn before finding a place in the fridge for them. As I close the refrigerator door, a flutter catches my eye.
Blue.
Wings.
A monarch butterfly magnet sits by the handle, only inches from my hand. I try to force myself to see the beauty in it.
I can’t.
I rip my hand away like the handle just caught fire.
The searing heat lancing my veins is quick to fade with the sound of the man behind me grunting as he slams ceramic around. I turn back to find Callum stacking the dishwasher like those plates personally offended him.
He shoves another into the bottom rack with a clang, and I touch his forearm, hoping to stave off the assault for a moment. “Are you okay?”
His blue eyes are tightened as they rise to land on mine. “Fine.”
“Tell that to the plates.” I fold my arms and nod to the dishwasher between us, the open door at our feet, the plates tossed in any old how.
“You’re not happy about the storm, about having to stay?” I ask.
He searches my face. Returning the gesture, I wonder what has him so riled in such a short time frame. I thought we moved past this broody, not-getting-close-to-each-other shit.
Maybe he’s not comfortable with us being in the same platonic bed here together in his sister’s house?
Honestly, I’m lost.
“Emmett said we should stay...” I try again.
“We need to.” His jaw grinds. “But we shouldn’t.”